Shadow Pains
by Devouring Rush
Summary: AU. Slowly, but surely, the threads of mental stability detach when the largest of lies are knocked down in the simplest of ways. In which Bolin is imaginary, and Mako is in a state of self-deception.
1. Prologue: Spark

**1: Tinder**

It wasn't as if Bolin had never existed.

Mako remembered, with a fervent vibrancy, when his parents presented his younger brother to him. Bolin had been swaddled tightly in thin fabrics, his cheeks puffy and red from fever.

His mother had held both him and Bolin tightly, tears streaking down her face, her crumpled face, which only three months ago had been bright as the sun gleaming off of King Zuko's statue. Mako's father had left the room shortly after setting him on his mother's lap. He had looked so worn and sad. Weren't babies a happy occasion? They had always told him babies were a gift; something to be celebrated.

However, it had been three months. Maybe they were so sad the celebration had ended and they were forced to share?

Bolin had to stay at the hospital for that long because he was "special." Mako had wanted to visit him sooner, but his mother had explained that Bolin needed to grow a little longer, that "momma just wasn't able to grow him up all the way like a baby should".

His father, however, had simply called him premature with a strange, fright-inspiring look brewing on his face. Mako hadn't approached his father for information on Bolin after that, thinking that his father didn't like Bolin.

But, Mako thought he was stunning. His baby brother was perfect with his emerald eyes, chubby limbs, and black tufts of hair, that reminded Mako of his own.

Smiling, he leaned down, pressing his lips against each of Bolin's cheeks. "You're such a pretty baby," he cooed softly. "Mamma, he's real pretty. You think he'll look like me when he grows up?"

His mother, with straight black, a pretty pale face, and a figure soft enough to doze against, made a noise like nothing Mako had ever heard before. It was quick and loud and made Bolin wretch with tears. It made mamma wretch with tears, too.

**2: Gasoline**

For the following week, Mako was Bolin's protector and provider. Mako was Bolin's personal sentential guard. His mamma had taught Mako how to heat milk. How to change his diaper. How to do all the things mamma was too tired to do while his father worked.

Earlier in the week, on Wednesday, Mako had ran in to a problem. Bo kept crying and nothing he could do would stop it. But, perhaps mother could make Bolin happy?

He'd crept in to her room, wary from years of scolding against rambunctious behavior. Approached the side of the large, beaten mattress. "Mamma?"

The woman, who years later Mako would always wish had uttered her true name, only managed to lift her head. "What? Mako, aren't you supposed to be with Bolin? You don't want me to tell daddy you failed at your jo..your...your work, do you?"

There was a glass in her hand, filled with a deep red liquid. On her stomach was a bare, white container of pills. "I know your sick, but I can't make Bo stop crying."

Mamma had told him she was sick from having Bolin, but she didn't want to worry his father. "Mako, darling. Your momma can't look at Bo. It makes her sick."

Mako hoped the medicine would work soon.

Instead of persisting, though, the young boy merely nodded, accepting the faint pat his mother graced his head with, and left.

When he came back to scramble on top of the chair he'd placed by Bolin's crib, he also returned to screaming wails. "Please, stop!" Climbing in to his brother's bed, Mako cradled him in his arms.

"Please?" Bolin only shrieked and cried. Mako cried too.

After a few hours, both boys had calmed down. With the help of a freshly washed diaper (scrubbed in the bath and dried on the top of a kitchen chair, as Mako was not tall enough to reach the clothes line), a warm bottle, and a pepper of kisses, Mako felt rather pleased.

"Bo, you think you'll talk soon?" Mako stroked his brother's hair, lightly combing his nails against his scalp. That always caused Bolin to gurgle and giggle faintly. And, Mako so enjoyed causing joy. "'Cause I don't like just talkin'. Sometimes I like listenin' too."

Bolin merely graced Mako with a toothless grin before gnawing on Mako's favorite stuffed bear.

**3: Match**

Mako's father, Ganju, was a stern, yet loving man. Every day, after coming home from the factory, he would enter Bolin's room and greet his two sons. He would fawn over Bolin almost as fervently as Mako (because no one loved Bolin like Mako), before pressing a kiss to Mako's cheek and ruffling his hair.

Ganju would love them, feed them, and clean them after failing to wake his wife from her pill induced coma, though he merely believed her to be exhausted from caring for their two sons. The rail-thin man especially enjoyed presenting the pristine park to his two boys. Watching Mako scramble about, coming back with some rock or small bug that he proudly flaunted to both his father and Bolin.

He wanted the best for his family. And, Ganju wanted more. For his wife to have a nanny at her side to help with the children, to allow time for him and his wife to do more than sleep in the same bed, for his children to be raised in a finer state than their current surroundings, and for his children to not be confined to a life of minimal education and dangerous factories.

It was why Ganju, who valued moral fiber as much as his own father had, stole. The factory was run by a member of the Triple Threat Triad, a group of low-life scoundrels who swindled anything and everything from anyone. If that were not justification enough, the factory was in a state of squalor that left at least two or three men injured with little hope for recovery. Valiant as he thought himself, he did a poor job of covering his tracks.

Ganju stole fifty-thousand dollars for his family (another 75,000 was anonymously donated to former workers of the factory), quite his job at the factory, and moved his family to lovely, modern home.

It took three weeks for Ganju to find work as a banker.

It took three weeks for the Triple Threat Triad to find Ganju and his family.

**4: Fire**

Mako trembled, Bolin completely despondent in his arms.

They were huddled under various rags with an assortment of putrid scents. But, Mako had nothing left regurgitate. His bile left several alleys away.

He was petrified, unable to accept what had just unraveled before him four days ago.

Mother had been present, though her red medicine had come too. Father had been a bit peeved at seeing it, but was thrilled at the conversation from the table. They'd been a family that night, after Mako's father had gotten home. His mother even held Bolin, cooing that he was going to sprout up to be exactly like Ganju and Mako. Bolin had giggled, tripping over nonsense words before shouting "Mako!"

"Yeeah. Maaako. Smart boyy." Her words were slurred and strange but father just laughed. Mako followed suit. They'd been a really family. Something ardently happy.

But, then the men had come. There had been five of them. They'd pinned Mako's parents to the wall, ordering Mako and Bolin to the corner of the room. Then, they'd burned them. Burned them alive. Laughing. Shrieking with glee while his parents shrieked in the throes of death. Demons.

Mako didn't know how to protect Bolin from demons.

Mako hadn't even known what demons looked like until now, and he could barely spot them behind his tears.

But, as they turned to him, booming voices unheard under the shrieks of Mako and Bolin, he felts something with in him snap.

Raising his arms in front of him, Mako burned the demons. They shrieked something terrible, but Mako could only stare at the charred bodies of his mother and father.

But, then he saw Bolin start to cough violently. Spotted the smoke. Remember it was his job to protect Bolin.

Mako raised Bolin from his lap to his arms. And, ran.

Now, he sat cradling the person he loved the most in his arms. His most precious little brother, Bolin. Momma had said he was almost a toddler.

"What the fuck is that?"

Mako jumped from his spot and turned to his right. A young man, a mask of disgust on his face, was marching toward him.

"I-I-"

"That thing your holding? What is it, huh," he spat.

Mako glared, tears pricking his eyes. How dare anyone call Bo an "it." Bolin was better than everyone. "Don't call him that! He's not an it! He's Bolin. My brother!"

The man ceased reaching for Bolin, then, a very confused and morose expression pulling his mouth down. "Where's your parents?"

"...D-dead."

"Oh."

His name was Shin. The young man had told him that after dragging Mako to a tent and forcing a putrid smelling stew down his throat.

Mako gave some to his brother, after asking Shin for milk and getting laughed at. "There ain't no milk here! I barely got food!"

**5: Ashes**

Shady Shin watched as Mako sat in the corner, a book propped open, and read to no one in particular.

Except, Shin knew that wasn't true at all. Mako was reading to Bolin. Because, Mako was always talking to Bolin.

To a boy who had died with his parents years past.

Sometimes, Shady Shin would think about not playing along. Especially when Mako woke up the entire alley of homeless people claiming that Bolin had ran away after being scolded by Shin.

It wasn't Shin's place to say anything, though. To tell Mako that the baby he'd claimed to be his brother that night Shin had found him had been charred. Burned all to hell. Dead.

So, he just played along. "Shin?"

"Yeah, pain in the ass," he quipped, attempting to look over the finances for the Triple Threat Triad.

"Have you seen Bo?"

Shin glared at him. "Weren't you reading to him?"

"...I...He must've gone upstairs," Mako replied faintly, heading to the capricious upper floor of their tent.

Shin went back to the finances.


	2. Chapter One: Evolution

**1: Myth**

Mako coughed violently, the smog trapped within the factory carving lines of pain down his throat. Everything was terribly oppressive in the steel hell, and he was certainly not the only one attempting to clear his lungs.

Wiping the spit from his lips with his thread-bare sleeve, the eight-year old fire bender got back to work. His position at this factory was precarious at best. Children willing to work in piss-poor conditions were plentiful, and too long of a coughing fit was often viewed as license to replace. Sickly children and relatives willing to persecute the factories were not taken lightly. Mako simply couldn't to be replaced. Bolin was depending on him.

As Mako coaxed a tentative bolt of lightning from his finger tips, he could not cease his thoughts on his younger brother. Bolin had simply gotten more adventurous and troublesome as time went by. Perhaps it _was_ unfair of Mako to order him put in the alley day after day, but visions of burnt bodies often hid behind Mako's eyelids. They kept him firm in his orders, and reminded him that fair was dangerous. That caution was the superior medicine, and a bit of unruliness was a manageable side effect compared to the course no treatment would provide.

Shin, on the other hand, was inclined to disagree, especially as of late. He was climbing the chain of command with in the Triple Threat Triad at a brutal pace, spending a tremendous time on his career both at and from home. As a result, Bolin was acting out in outrageous ways. Just two weeks ago, the Earth bender had stood on the edge of an incomplete building, claiming that he would jump if Shin didn't stay home that night. Shin had, of course, agreed. There had been a sizable crowd, searching for the screeching boy in the dim twilight, and Shin certainly did not need for the scene to flourish enough that the authorities arrived. And, lately, Shin had seemed at his breaking. Nothing Mako did would appease him. In all honestly, Mako was starting to fear the man.

Producing another fit of coughs, Mako squeezed at his aching ribs. His body was bruised from coughing and training and defending Bolin from other street brats. Mako fell to his knees. A violent round of hacking bursting from his mouth. Attempting to calm his system down, Mako shielded his mouth with his soot-covered shirt. Tried to slow his breathing. Placed his hands over his mouth.

But, it was too late. A man in a expensive looking mask, most likely a manager, had already pointed to his wrenching body.

"Sorry, kid. We ain't got no time for law suits 'round here," a bald, grizzly looking man apologized. He ensnared Mako's body in his arms, lugging him away from his station, toward the exit.

Mako started to cry. "_No, please_," he begged faintly, his voice hoarse.

"I can't, kid. You don't need to be stayin' here with that fuckin' cough, anyway. Gonna kill yourself workin' for scraps." The large man unapologetically dropped Mako in the alley behind the factory, tucking a few coins in his palm. "Git out o' here before ya get robbed, huh?"

Sobbing on the ground, clutching his last payment, Mako started coughing again. "No, no, _no."_

The steel door slammed shut.

Mako coughed so hard his ribs burned and splashes of blood stained his ashen skin.

**2: Lore**

Crouching precariously together, Mako and Bolin spied on the students of the bending class. They weren't sure of its specific name, but they certainly knew the instructors would not take kindly on discovering they were handing out free lessons. Both Mako and Bolin were nervously tucked behind a mountain of boxes, most likely containing disks of earth, like the ones that were being used in the new and outrageously popular sport, pro-bending. They were even building an arena for the game.

"_Mako_," Bolin muttered. "That water bender is blocking my boss man!"

The boxes they were hidden behind were located at the back of the room, and in front of the brothers were a plethora of students positioned in "windows", as the instructors had put it, that left them struggling to spot the teachers when the students made mistakes.

"_Shut up, Bo,_" Mako hissed back, giving his brother a light smack on his thigh. Pouting, Bolin nodded before shifting every which way in a futile attempt to catch sight of the muscular woman spewing out instruction for the Earth benders. Neither of the brothers could catch hold of a single word any of the teachers spoke. "Just look at the other students."

Bolin grinned. "Okay, bro." Mako rolled his eyes. Bolin would have no hope of surviving with out Mako, and although it was a bit of an annoyance at times, it made Mako feel irreplaceable. And, he secretly hoped Bolin would not ever grow out of his lack of common sense.

Honestly, the entire set up was best for both brothers. The more capable students were usually shoved to the back in order for the less bending inclined children to get extra aid. Both Mako and Bolin fell in to another lap of silence as they concentrated on successfully mimicking their unsuspecting teachers. The fire benders were allotted more space as a precaution, while Earth benders were spread to the edges in order for them to fling their compact earth disks against the wall. The water benders were not arranged in any special way, as their element was neither dangerous if accidently used on another student or space consuming.

Annoyingly enough, though, there was always the same water bender blocking Mako and Bolin from gaining a more efficient view of the students who shared their elements. At first, they had thought him to be girl, on account of his lengthy, shaggy brown hair, that rivaled the length of several girls in the class. However, after a few incidents that included the boy speaking or turning around to the back of the room, the found he was, in fact, of the male persuasion. And, his name was Hasook.

Bolin insisted that Hasook knew they were there. Mako always told him to shut up, despite the fact that he had a suspicion his brother was right. It was the subtle things that Hasook would do. If the brothers whispered to loudly, his bending would cease or slow, and he would turn. On occasion, he would send a splash of water toward the boxes. And, he was becoming increasingly closer to their hideaway with each training session.

But, Mako put little stock in the other boy's actions. He was occupied enough with Bolin's restless voice and concentrating on furthering his bending.

"Mako," Bolin murmured, tapping his brother's shoulder. "Hm?"

"That Hasook boy is lookin' at you."

Mako froze, finding himself further from cover than usual little too late. Slowly, his eyes trailed to meet the water bender's. He'd been caught. But, instead of yelling for the teacher or approaching, Hasook merely turned back around before directing the orphan a wink, and shooting a graceful line of water directly at Mako's face.

That day, Mako found out yet another thing about the boy. Something that reminded him of Shin.

Hasook had perfect aim.

**3: Faith**

Mako's body was curled against Shin, his fingers gripping at the man's shirt loosely. This time, the boy had claimed Bolin wanted to sleep with his family, all of them in the same bed. The Triple Threat Triad member was anything but fooled. Shin was starting to get good at understanding that everything Bolin did was not random. They were things that Mako wanted or needed. And, Mako was depressed, having lost his job, and feared going back to the bending class in case the boy that had been watching them told.

Stretching a bit, Shin ruffled Mako's hair fondly. There were fresh bandages covering his tiny chest, where violent bruises were slowly fading, and Shin was religiously forcing hot tea down the fire bender's throat when he was conscious. His cough was almost gone thanks to his mediocre healing knowledge, but mostly due to Shin promising a trip to the park if Mako would only rest for a few days.

The entire day had been as if Bolin never existed. Shin had taken Mako to a middle class clothes shop, buying him a couple outfits, while the water bender had picked out a red scarf for himself. Mako, though extremely expressive of his thanks, had admitted to wishing Shin had bought him a matching scarf, too.

The rest of their adventure had been toiled away doing nothing of importance. The rolling green hills, sparkling man-made ponds, and food carts had beckoned both of them to forget their cares for the day. However, their newly purchased picnic blanket had been the unparalleled focus of their day.

At first, they had simply pointed out the shapes of the clouds.

"Look there, Shin," Mako barked suddenly. "It looks like a flying bison!" Directing his eyes to where Mako indicated, Shin started to laugh. Pressing his face to the fabric of the blanket, Shin beat his fist against the ground.

"It _is_ a flying bison," Shin managed between cackles.

Later in the day had found Mako leaning on Shin's side, excitedly devouring a messy pig's rib. Shin, himself, had opted for a bowl of water tribe noodles.

It had been a very long time since he'd ate anything so close to how his own parents had used to make the food. Mako, however, found the noodles repulsive. He admitted that his mother had also disliked them, as well. Shin had only elbowed the side of Mako's face playfully. "Well, you're missin' out, kid."

Mako had offered Shin a skeptic look. "No, _you're_ missing out. Mamma always said that fire nation food is the best," Mako declared stubbornly.

"You ever been to the fire nation," Shin questioned curiously. Mako just shook his head, while sucking glaze from his fingers. It was just as well. Fewer and fewer people who took such pride in their nations had actually stepped foot there, let alone knew for sure that it was their sole heritage. More people seemed to be picking the nation they liked best in their ancestry and claiming keeps. Not that Shin really cared. He wasn't one to care much about the past. The here and the _now_ was where everything was at.

"Have you ever been to the water tribes," Mako retorted cheekily.

Shin snorted, scratching his incoming goatee. "As a matter of fact," the man drawled. "I have. I grew up in the North till my parents decided to start a better life here. It was beautiful there. Never could understand why they left. Everything was always covered in snow...And the sea had these big icebergs. If you got close enough to him, you'd see rainbows. You know that I'm related to a Princess from up there? She turned in to the moon to save the previous Avatar. She was somethin'."

Mako stared at Shin in awe, glaze dripping from his chin on to his shirt. Not that there was not already a plethora of smears there. Rolling his eyes, Shin rubbed a napkin against Mako's shirt before pressing it to his chin.

Mako set the remains of his food on the wooden plate before him."Does that mean you're a prince, Shin?" Shin snorted, picking up the plate and attacking Mako with a playful noogie.

"_Sure_, kid. I'm a _prince._" Mako giggled, tackling Shin, and forcing him to lie on the ground. "Bolin'll think he's next in line, but I am right? When you get tired of bein' prince, I can be?"

Shin didn't answer. Because, he was too disappointed to do anything but crush Mako in a hug.

He'd been doing so _well_.

Giving another yawn, Shin felt a frown crease his lips. He definitely didn't want to think about that right now. Shin's faith in Mako getting better was declining, and he was losing options. The man didn't want to hurt Mako, but he honestly did not see any other option than telling Mako what he had really presented to Shin the night he'd found Mako cowering in an alley. Playing along was not aiding the boy. If anything it was becoming increasingly detrimental to his health.

Just a few weeks ago Mako had managed to climb half-way up an unfinished skyscraper, claiming to be Bolin, while demanding that Shin stay home, or he would leap. Shin had almost beat the shit out of him once he'd helped Mako from the slippery infrastructure.

Honestly, Shin just could not handle this. He was a rising mobster. Not a physiatrist. And, just because he was very fond of the boy didn't mean he was willing to stick around for the day that Mako killed himself.

Turning his head to look down at the little boy, feeling the cloth of the red scarf that was wrapped around both of their necks, Shin sighed. It was low, tired sound. It was the sound of defeat.

That day, after "Bolin" had caused Mako to get his ass handed to him by a group of five fellow street rats, which, in turn, had caused Shin to take another week off of work in order to make sure he healed right, Shin grasped Mako's face in his hands, and confessed.

Told him that the real Bolin was dead.

That his Bolin was imaginary.

Shin even took him to where he'd buried the burnt remains of Bolin four years ago, which was indicated only by a wooden marker.

The next day, Shin's red scarf was missing.

And, so was Mako.

**4: Philosophy **

Mako was terribly confused. Bolin had cried when he'd seen the grave.

"_It's true_," he'd whispered, shaking as though he were scared Mako would strike him.

However, Mako had not taken his rage out on Bolin, but Shin. He had beat his fists against him relentlessly. "You're a dirty _liar_! Bolin is _**right there**_," he'd screeched shrilly.

Another sob came from Bolin. "_I'm not real, Mako._"

Shin had not done anything to stop Mako when he'd started attack him even more brutally than before. Not even when he'd nearly singed him with his bending. Shin had simply stood there, a horrendously sad look on his face.

Mako stared at his hands, remembering how the demons had burned those he loved.

But, he wasn't like them.

_He hadn't burned Shin._

_**He hadn't burned his baby brother.**_

_**Right?**_

Mako trembled violently, stumbling away from the grave, and emptied his stomach.

His entire body felt like it was on fire.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. _I'm so sorry," _Mako whispered brokenly as he crawled to his brother's grave and embraced the ground above which Bolin was currently confined in.

Shin could barely stand to watch, but he didn't trust the young boy to be alone. So, he scooped up Mako, who was beyond anything but sobs, and told him it wasn't his fault, while twirling his red scarf around Mako's neck. Proceeded to whisper that he wasn't alone. That he loved him.

Because, Shin loved Mako more than anything, and he had faith that Mako was going to get better.

**5: Science**

However, Shin had forgotten that love makes you blind. And, perhaps that was why the man had been stunned to tears the morning he found Mako, his little brother of four years, and his red scarf missing.

Mako, however, knew very well that love was blind. With love, he could forget that Bolin _was dead_. He could forget that Bolin was _no longer real_. He could forget Shin _ever existed_.

Leaning against one of the boxes in the bending school room, Mako listened to the sound of the elements swirling and crashing about the room. After a few seconds, he opened his eyes, and had to press his palm against his mouth to keep from squeaking.

It was Hasook. He was standing over him, his head cocked to the side, as he smiled something rather friendly. "Hi," he whispered. "My name's Hasook." Mako backed up farther toward the wall.

"Don't worry about me telling-I'm not a snitch. I know you only come in here 'cause you can't afford lessons. What's your name," he probed, sticking his hand out for a shake.

Limply shaking Hasook's hand, Mako let a few tears loose. "Mako," he murmured.

"Why're you crying?"

Mako pressed his red scarf against his face. The one his father, Shin, had given him before he'd died.

"My parents died a couple days ago. Now it's only me and my brother." Hasook patted Mako's shoulder.

"I'm real sorry. But, where's your brother?"

One of the instructors yelled that it was time to go. Hasook merely dropped to his knees and scooted closer to Mako, who was rubbing his tears on his scarf.

"I don't know," Mako confessed, a terrible, heavy feeling settled in his stomach.

**A/N: Thank you to my seven reviewers, and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. It was way longer than I expected, but it sets it up quite well for the next chapter, which takes place around the time Korra shows up.  
**


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